


Shattered Dreams

by Slaskia



Series: Chronicles [1]
Category: Halo
Genre: Gen, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-16
Updated: 2008-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:19:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaskia/pseuds/Slaskia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A female Sangheili does not regret her crime, until at the last moment when she realises just how terrible her crime really was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This is set just after Halo 3, after the Shadow of Intent returns to Sangheilios.

The day has finally come. 

She rose from her hard cold bed and stared past the force field of her cell into the hallway beyond.  Soon the guards will come to remove her from what had been her home for the last few months, to take her to the execution plaza to die.  To be executed for the most grievous of crimes a female could commit. 

Looking down she saw the dull, tattered remains of her once regal robe:  a symbol of the status she used to have.  She was the daughter of a Councilor, a thing of beauty any male Sangheili would die for.  It was a high ranking military officer that chose her to bare his son, a union her father had approved of and gave him his blessing.  She remembered the honor she felt, the pride that swelled in her chest as the child grew in her womb and finally came into the world, young and full of life.  She remembered the few years after as her son grew, his father rising to one of the highest ranks possible: she was so proud and happy. 

Then disaster. 

The child’s father was branded a heretic and sentenced to death, for what reason she did not know.  It did not matter though, as the pride she felt, the honor of her deed was destroyed.  For a while she tried to endure, to continue on as before.  However every time she looked at the child she felt bitter and shame.  How could his father do this to her?  To him?  How can her son bare to live knowing his father was a traitor?  Already she was getting ridicule for baring a heretic’s son and no matter how hard she tried she could not ignore it. 

Finally she could take it no more.  No longer able to take the shame she destroyed the sole living source.  It was with a heavy heart she strangled the life out of her own son, as much to spare him the shame as herself.  Afterward she wept at the unfairness of it all, but was certain she could start again. 

Others however didn’t see it that way.  Her deed was quickly discovered and she was arrested.  A murderer of the worst kind they called her.  Some even called her a heretic.  Her father quickly disowned her, disgusted by her actions.  She had nothing, _was_ nothing in the eyes of her people now. 

She had been defiant at first, trying to explain her reasoning.  No one would listen and after a time she finally gave up.  The Council decided quickly on her punishment:  execution.  To this day she wondered if her father even hesitated to agree with his peers. 

Normally she would have been executed the following day, but something delayed it.  It was days before she was able to find out why:  the Prophets had betrayed her people and now her people were engaged in a civil war against the rest of the Covenant.  The whole of Sangheilios was preparing for a possible attack from their former Covenant allies and the execution of a criminal such as her became the lowest priority.  Months passed before things settled down again. 

The few Councilors’ that survived the betrayal returned home and looked at her case again.  She had felt a glimmer of hope that they would change her sentence.  It turned out to be a fruitless hope as they determined she deserved the same sentence.  Why couldn’t they understand why she did what she did?  Would they not have done the same as she if they were in her position? 

The sound of a door opening, followed by the footfalls of a pair of guards approaching her cell drew her out of her contemplations.  It was time.  She rose to her feet and watched as one guard turned off the force field, the other standing to one side with his plasma rifle ready in case she tried anything.  “You should be _honored_ …,”  One guard said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.  “The Arbiter himself is going to witness your execution.” 

The Arbiter.  Shock stayed her feet, forcing one of the guards to pull her out of her cell and push her ahead of them.  She had heard of the Arbiter from bits of conversation from the guards and other prisoners.  The holiest of warriors in the Covenant, the blade of the Prophets, an honor the majority of male Sangheili could only dream about obtaining and this one was said to be even more special. 

This Arbiter had opened her people’s eyes to the truth, revealed that the Great Journey was a lie and lead them in a revolt against their former allies.  He formed an alliance with their once enemies, the humans, and together had defeated the Covenant and destroyed the Prophets.  This was a man she would have wanted to meet, if things had been different for her, perhaps even mate with if he would have her.  No chance of that now, her dreams forever shattered. 

The sunlight from three suns assaulted her eyes as she was led outside for the first time in months.  She cried in agony, the pain halting her progress as she tried to shield her eyes, only for one of the guards to roughly push her.  Losing her footing she fell to the dusty ground, grit and sand getting into her eyes.  One of the guards roughly hauled her to her feet and pushed her onward, making her continue half blind as she tried feverish to wipe the sand from her eyes. 

She was finally able to see clearly when they reached the execution platform, its surface stained purple with the blood of countless Sangheili that had been executed before her over the generations.  Around her she could hear the crowd jeering and cursing at her, the combined cries nothing but a loud roar to her ears. 

As they secured her hands to the plasma shackles on the ground, she looked around at the crowd, wondering where the Arbiter was.  Maybe he would take pity upon a wretched soul such as she and stay her execution.  The moment she spotted him though, her hearts sank when she realized there would be no forgiveness when she recognized him. 

Oh the cruel irony!  The Arbiter was none other then the sire of her son, the child she had murdered with her own two hands.  All at once she realized why no one understood her reasons behind the deed.  It seemed that she was the only one that didn’t know that the Prophets had given him the chance to redeem himself by becoming the Arbiter.  Now that he had freed their people from the Covenant, her crime was even more grievous: no wonder the Councilor didn’t change their mind. 

Tears of regret came at once to her eyes, but knew they were too little too late.  Oh how she could wish she could turn back time and undo what she had done.  Oh how she wished she would have been stronger and simply ignored the taunting. 

Muttering a prayer of forgiveness to whatever gods were out there, she lifted her head high staring straight at the sun.  The bright light of Urs blinded her but that pain could not compare to the pain that was now in her heart.  Closing her eyes she waited for the executioner’s blade to end her life. 

Then there was the bliss of death.

 ***

Rtas ‘Vadum watched as the Arbiter turned his head away, unable to watch the killing blow.  He and warned him against coming, but he had insisted.  Why he did not know, though it was likely to give his once mate a chance to recognize him, to see who he had become.  It appeared to have worked, going by the expression on her face just before she raised her head to give the executioner a clear shot at her neck.  However Rtas knew coming here had only hurt him more. 

The Arbiter had taken it hard when he learned that his son was dead.  He had hoped to help raise him now that the war was over:  though he could not share his name with his son he was still his blood and he had expressed his eagerness to see him again.  That hope had been shattered when he was told his son was killed by the hands of his mother.  He truly had nothing now, nothing but his title and the alliance he had forged between his people and the humans. 

“Come brother…,”  Rtas said gently, placing a hand on the Arbiter’s shoulder.  “Let us leave this place.” 

The Arbiter simply nodded the pain and sorrow evident in his eyes.  He said not a word as they walked away from the plaza, though Rtas could tell he was on the verge of breaking.  The Shipmaster knew he needed to get him out of the scrutiny of the public eye, to some place where so he may be alone and express his grief in private without fear of criticism.  

The closest place was his own home, where he allowed the Arbiter use of a spare bedroom.  The Arbiter immediately buried himself in its sheets, looking very small and vulnerable, tears finally being allowed to spill forth.  Rtas knew he wept not for the traitorous female they had just watched die, but for his son whose life was taken too soon. 

“If you need anything Arbiter…call me.” He told him, deciding to give him his space.  He saw the tiniest of nods of acknowledgement before shutting the door. 

 _Even the mightiest of warriors can be hurt so terribly._   Rtas thought to himself, wishing he could do more for his friend.  It frightened him to see the Arbiter like this, so broken and helpless: it was worse then when he was tortured and shamed on _High Charity_. 

Worse still, there was no telling how long it would take him to recover, unlike physical wounds.  He could only hope he had the strength and will to pull through and not descend into a state of suicidal misery….


End file.
